The candles from the night had burned out completely.
In the garden, beneath the covered corridor, only the two maids remained awake.
“Xiao Yi, go back to sleep for a while. I can keep watch,” Mo Zi said. Calculated by hours, there was still over an hour left—actually quite a long time.
Xiao Yi shook her head. “I’m not sleepy anymore, Mo Zi.”
Mo Zi replied, “Having someone to chat with isn’t bad either.”
“You could have left long ago, actually.” Xiao Yi’s candor proved there were absolutely no eavesdroppers nearby.
“And then what?” Mo Zi bent down to pluck a pink butterfly flower and sat on a stone bench. “Just because a woman is clever and capable, does that mean she can be her own master?”
“Isn’t that so?” Xiao Yi tilted her head.
“Then let me ask you—with such excellent martial skills, why don’t you leave Miss?” If poor, one could rob the rich to help the poor while pocketing some silver for daily expenses. If someone had ill intentions toward her, she could beat them half to death, strip them naked, hang them from the city tower, and write “rapist” on their belly. How carefree and satisfying that would be!
“Miss saved me, gave me food to eat, and allowed me to study martial arts with my master on the mountain. Without Miss, I’d have nowhere to go.” It had nothing to do with having good martial skills.
“I’m the same as you—I have nowhere to go. If I were a clever and capable man, everything would be different.” In this era, men could venture out, exploring heaven and earth, as long as they had the ability.
As for women brave enough to venture out, more than half ended up in brothels, never to escape again. The other half became concubines in noble households, then devoted all their talent and youth to the desperate pursuit of becoming the primary wife. She had no known origins, was utterly alone, possessed extraordinary talents—but feared that revealing too much would immediately attract wolves, tigers, and leopards who would devour her alive, leaving her with no way out. In this world’s established conventions, women always needed someone to rely on. And she feared that after leaving Qiu Sanniang, what she’d encounter wouldn’t be support, but vampires intent on draining every last drop of her blood.
Qiu Sanniang, at least, was someone she could control.
“But Miss said you’ll leave eventually.” Xiao Yi thought so too.
“Xiao Yi, when I leave, it will certainly be when others can no longer easily bully me.” Otherwise, leaving Qiu Sanniang would be as simple as entering a brothel—why wouldn’t she do it?
Because she was pragmatic. She didn’t want to hide away in some uninhabited mountain, clearing wasteland and farming, living her whole life as a white-haired hermit. She hadn’t given up on the idea of making money and living well. She also wanted her sleeves to billow in the wind, to drink heartily and laugh loudly, not fearing crowds but rather seeking them out. To summon friends in droves and see these magnificent rivers and mountains—traveling a thousand miles by boat!
An opportunity already lay before her—Hongyu Hollow.
Yes, Hongyu Hollow was Qiu Sanniang’s dowry, not hers. Yes, Qiu Sanniang put profit first—if she knew Mo Zi could help her make another fortune, Mo Zi herself would definitely work for nothing.
But what worked in her favor now was that Qiu Sanniang would absolutely never personally manage ventures that involved sweating under the blazing sun. When the smuggling operation first started, Qiu Sanniang had partnered with a friend of her father’s. Qiu Sanniang only invested money. Later, when the partner quit, she ran it herself, but had never personally operated the boats—everything was handed over to Cen Da and his two sons.
Qiu Sanniang loved money, but she was simultaneously a wealthy young lady, born with a golden key in her mouth, treasured by her father since childhood like a pearl in his palm. Working the abacus and account books, managing elegant shops, and buying and selling scenic estates—she lacked none of the airs of a great merchant. But to have her spend day after day soaking in the fields, watching the harvest and seeing people drenched in sweat—killing her would be more merciful.
When the Wangqiu Tower opened in the capital, Qiu Sanniang would definitely have the Cen family manage it, perhaps promoting Second Young Master Cen to chief steward. But Hongyu Hollow wasn’t something just anyone could set up as a shipyard. The capital cost of boats alone wasn’t low—if botched, over a thousand taels of silver would vanish. This couldn’t be compared to small restaurant businesses earning nine taels, ten taels, or twenty taels. And for Qiu Sanniang to employ someone, they absolutely had to be reliably capable and trustworthy.
Cen Da was a household servant from Qiu Sanniang’s mother’s dowry—naturally trustworthy.
Tian Da was currently helping Qiu Sanniang buy property, and his talents weren’t in management. As for Qiu Da (I think it’s Qiu Dadong)—his loyalty could move heaven and earth, sun and moon, but he didn’t seem to have the ability to be a supervisor.
Hongyu Hollow was as if the old Qiu family ancestors knew their descendants would encounter Mo Zi—wanting her to develop and expand this ancestral business that had long turned to dust.
But Mo Zi couldn’t ask Qiu Sanniang outright for this work. If she asked, she’d definitely work for free. Yet Mo Zi absolutely had to do it. If she didn’t, she’d have to wait for Qiu Sanniang’s whims—reducing her contract by a year here, a year there, or perhaps never reducing it at all, just enduring these seven years until she was twenty-six or twenty-seven, leaving empty-handed to start from scratch. And during these seven years, the possibility that Qiu Sanniang might transfer her to an even harder-to-serve master wasn’t zero.
She couldn’t ask for it, but absolutely had to have it—the only way was for Qiu Sanniang to voluntarily hand it over. Then everything would be negotiable. With the smuggling operation, the inventory could be counted clearly, and people watched her every move—there was absolutely no way to create opportunities for herself. But Hongyu Hollow was a large-scale enterprise. Even if Qiu Sanniang planted people to monitor her, she could still get what she wanted.
Don’t think she was planning to embezzle a fortune—that went against her principles. Of course, having lived in this society for a while, it wasn’t about pretending to be virtuous either. It was just that money wasn’t her reason for wanting to take over Hongyu Hollow.
She’d followed Qiu Sanniang for over half a year. Though she helped Qiu Sanniang with outside affairs, the people she dealt with could be counted on one hand, and they were all Qiu Sanniang’s people anyway. With smuggling, the fewer people you dealt with the better. Qiu Sanniang didn’t let her know the sellers, and the buyer lists came from Cen Da—she only handled running the boats. She had gotten to know one general and one prime minister this way—but what use was that? If one saw her again, he might very well silence her permanently. The other’s life or death was uncertain, unknown from one day to the next.
So what did Mo Zi actually want?
Connections, markets, channels, information. The entire shipbuilding industry laid transparent before her. To make people know she was female, yet because demand was so great and people capable of building boats were so few, they’d treat her like Mulan joining the army—having no choice but to ignore gender. To eat alongside the monopolists, becoming a small monopolist herself, so that even after leaving Qiu Sanniang, she could still get by quite well and live freely.
People would say: a little maid with eight taels and three qian worth of assets—go daydream somewhere.
Her mind told her: the road must be walked step by step, rice must be eaten mouthful by mouthful. Never be the most anxious person—be the person who laughs last.
“Mo Zi, if you leave, will you still consider us sisters?” On this night when Qiu Sanniang married into a new family, Xiao Yi suddenly turned sentimental.
“Don’t worry. Leaving only means physical and mental freedom. Sisters for a day, sisters for life.” Being able to meet these young women, she considered herself somewhat lucky. As for Qiu Sanniang—specific problems required specific analysis. Thinking of this, Mo Zi smiled. “Who knows how far off that is? Maybe Bai He and Lu Ju will marry before I even manage to leave.”
Xiao Yi’s willow-leaf eyes curved. “Didn’t I promise to help you jump the wall?”
“You still remember that?” On the carriage to Cinian Temple, Mo Zi had used the bottle to lure out one or two opportunities to jump walls.
Xiao Yi laughed, showing a row of pearly white teeth, nodded, and reached over to take the little flower Mo Zi had been twirling for a hundred circles, inserting it into her own hair. So naturally adorable!
Mo Zi was in good spirits too. She bent down to pick another flower and, copying Xiao Yi, inserted it into her hair.
Two young women in the prime of their youth, in this place that had become their new home, laughed gleefully together.
“First thing in the morning, I see you two laughing without restraint. What’s so funny? Tell me too.” Bai He had finished her night watch shift and slept during the latter half. She could have kept sleeping, but she’d always been a worrying older sister type, and it was Qiu Sanniang’s first day married into the Prince’s mansion—how could she not help attend to things?
“Nothing—” Mo Zi reached for the flower in Xiao Yi’s hair. Xiao Yi dodged and twisted, her facial expressions rich. “Just—”
“—jumping walls.” Xiao Yi finished matter-of-factly.
“Young mistresses, keep it down.” Bai He had no idea what they were laughing about. Seeing the shadow of a young maid at the other end, she quickly made Mo Zi and Xiao Yi quiet down.
“Bai He, we need to chase out these maids and old servants.” Xiao Yi lowered her voice. “Otherwise Miss won’t be able to leave the mansion.”
“Exactly. There probably won’t be anyone here who’ll give Miss a jade token to leave the mansion. And jumping walls won’t work either.” Mo Zi gave Xiao Yi a thumbs up, meaning “good thinking.”
“Easy for you to say. How do we chase them out? This is Prince Jing’s mansion, not her maternal home where rules are as good as nonexistent. Besides, now that Miss is married, she should stay home to support her husband and educate children. She can find people to manage the outside businesses—why must she run around herself?” Deep down, Bai He was conservative. From the beginning, she’d hoped Qiu Sanniang could have a happy marriage and no longer need to be a hardworking businesswoman.
“Bai He, all I can say is your wishes are beautiful, but reality is cruel.” Mo Zi deliberately used modern phrasing.
Bai He blinked, not understanding where that saying came from.
Seeing her poor comprehension, Mo Zi had to explain. “You want our Miss to support her husband and educate children. First, there must be consummation. Second, there must be a son. Besides, with Miss’s temperament, would she obediently stay at home? I’ll bet you—within a month, Miss will definitely find a way to go out.” A certain Sanniang was still grieving over the interest she lost each day.
“I won’t bet with you.” Unable to out-argue Mo Zi, Bai He turned and went to the bridal chamber door to listen for sounds. Probably hearing nothing, she could only return. “It’s all your terrible idea, making them really play chess all night. Otherwise, maybe in ten months we could be holding a young master.”
“Aiyo, a wedding-night baby?” Mo Zi truly admired Bai He’s optimistic spirit. “Whether those two inside can even get along is still uncertain, and you’re already thinking about a child? Forget it. First let them fall desperately in love, then talk about a young master.”
Bai He was completely unfamiliar with Mo Zi’s tone and couldn’t accept it. “It’s precisely by having a child that the young master will come here often, and then he’ll develop feelings for Miss!”
“That’s called a father’s responsibility, not feelings for a wife. You need to distinguish clearly.” Mo Zi thought using a child to bind a husband was the stupidest move. Even in modern times, loving couples divorced over disagreements about caring for babies.
Because Mo Zi kept contradicting her, Bai He puffed out both cheeks in irritation.